System Crash
by Kaisa Enara
Summary: Feedback's Tech Support gains a new member as the life of another hangs in the balance. Who Wants to Be a Superhero?


_Getting this out of the way now so I don't have to repeat myself again: I am not writing this for any kind of profit whatsoever. This story is based on character concepts created by Matthew Atherton, Sarah Blevins, and a whole lot of other people within the Tech Support group. With the exception of Mnemonic, none of these characters are mine._

_That said, let's move on to the story. I hope you enjoy the ride (and, y'know, let me know if you do)._

_***_

Chapter One

Courtney Schwarz was a girl living a double life. By day, she was a high school junior, average enough that very few people gave her a second glance.

"Hey, Courtney!" It was her friend Amanda. "Hurry up; you're going to be late for Writers' Guild!"

"Can't come today," Courtney replied. "Sorry. But tell Dianne I'll e-mail the magazine cover to her when I get it done, okay?"

Amanda sighed. "Sure. Jeez, Courtney, you never come to the meetings anymore. Your job really sucks, you know that?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I'll try to see about changing my hours, all right?"

There was no job, really. That was just a cover for the other half of said double life. By night, she was codename Mnemonic, one of a large group of assistants to the superhero Feedback. Okay, so it was more like, "by afternoon and weekend," but that was beside the point.

Two months had passed since Feedback had asked her to join his team of sidekicks, his Tech Support. To say that they'd been two of the most interesting months of her life was an understatement. She'd met people with amazing powers she'd never imagined could be real. She worked at a secret base. And as Feedback saved the world, she was helping save his mind. It made her feel a little bit like a hero in her own right.

The downside was that, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't tell anyone. Lately, it seemed like all she ever did was lie. As far as her friends knew, Courtney had an internship at Forthright Industries (not a _complete_ lie—she'd heard Tech Support had been based out of that company once). As far as her father knew, she was spending a lot more time at newspaper worknights and AP chem study groups (also not a complete lie—she kept on top of her stories and layouts, and with all the scientists running around Headquarters, homework help was never very hard to find).

It wasn't completely foolproof, but she figured she was safe as long as her dad, her friends, and the newspaper adviser didn't get together to compare notes.

Courtney left campus and headed down the long, empty road to the ghost town outside Rancho Cucamonga. By the time she reached her destination, the signal from her favorite radio station had gone out. It was just as well: loud music in a ghost town just seemed inappropriate somehow.

Courtney parked her car, got out, and approached the entrance of a nondescript, almost decrepit-looking building. If she hadn't known better, she would never have guessed that that building, which—from the outside, looked like one good dust-devil would topple it like a Jenga tower—was really Feedback's high-tech base of operations.

After the sensors in the door scanned her fingerprints and retinas, a green light blinked on, the door unlocked, and Courtney stepped inside.

The first person she came across was a college-aged guy in blue coveralls sweeping the entranceway; a matching blue cap covering most of his dark hair: Adam, the janitor. She hadn't gotten to talk to him all that much, but he seemed like an okay guy. She smiled a hello, and Adam paused his work to wave back at her.

"Hi, Mnemonic," he said.

"Hey," she replied. "How's it going?"

He shrugged. "Oh, business as usual, I guess."

"Okay. Hey, have you seen Feedback anywhere?"

"Uh…last I heard, he was in the lab with Console."

"Right. What's going on?"

"Not sure. Console's been working on some huge project for the last couple weeks, and I think he's pretty close to done. It had something to do with the Memory Cards, so you might want to check it out yourself."

"I will. Thanks, Adam. I'll see you around, I guess."

She found Feedback standing just outside the lab, back against the wall, eyes closed, head tipped up toward the ceiling. He looked like he was deep in thought. Well, that or he was asleep.

"Um…Feedback?"

His eyes opened and he looked in her direction. "Mnemonic!" he exclaimed. "Long time, no see!"

"Sorry about that," she replied. "The worknight excuse wasn't going to fly during winter break, and I was up visiting family in Phoenix most of that time, anyway. But I got some Cards documented."

"Well, it's good to have you back," Feedback said. "And happy New Year."

"You too." Mnemonic rummaged around in her schoolbag for a moment before producing a small parcel wrapped in Christmas paper. "Here. I got this for you."

Feedback took it and unwrapped it. Folded inside was a black t-shirt. As he read the green lettering on the front—_I haven't lost my mind…it's backed up on a disk somewhere_—Mnemonic froze, realizing that her joke might have been in very poor taste.

Thankfully, Matt burst out laughing a second later. "Wow, this is great! Thanks, Mnemo." He paused and looked at her, as though something had just occurred to him. "How'd you get here?" he asked. "I swear I just saw Drive—"

"Dad got me a car!" Mnemonic said proudly. "It's this blue MG Midget convertible; it's really cool! And the license plate says 'foreign toy' but with a number four, and—" She stopped, realizing that she was rambling. "Anyway, I drove myself. I think Drive would have gone, like, completely postal if she had to be my chauffer for another month." She looked around the empty hallway. "So, Adam told me you were working on some big project with Console. What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Just giving myself a minute," he replied. "Console…he's found a way to upload the contents of the Memory Cards back into my brain. He's gotten to the point where he's ready to test it out, and since mine is a pretty unique case, I get to be the guinea pig."

"Are you worried that something might go wrong?"

"No. Well, maybe a little," he admitted. "But I trust that Console knows what he's doing, and a couple people from Medical will be standing by just in case."

"So why are you worrying?"

"It's just…" He sighed. "I don't know. Ever since I became Feedback, I've had the memory loss. This…losing something when I use my powers…it's become a part of what I am. And now that I'll suddenly be able to regain things…it's all just a little jarring."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better—which it shouldn't—it's not like the memory loss is going away. And besides…" Mnemonic crossed her arms and glowered up at him. "…if you're anything but ecstatic about the prospect of remembering all the stuff you forgot, like, oh, I don't know, _marrying your wife_, then you're an idiot. And I mean that in the most respectful way possible."

Feedback looked thoughtful for a moment, and finally, he nodded. "You're right. I—"

The lab door swung open then, and Console peered out. "Hey, Matt, you coming?" he asked. "You've been out here forever, and I want to get this test done before Blackthorn dies of old age."

From somewhere inside, a voice boomed, "I _heard_ that!"

"Changed my mind. I want to get this test done before Blackthorn murders me for that comment," Console amended.

"Okay," Matt laughed. "I'm ready, so have at me."

Mnemonic followed the two men into the lab, and the scene that greeted her was a surprising and confusing one.

_I thought he said "a couple people from Medical,"_ she thought.

The lab was packed. K2 and Reboot were there, and the rest of the Medical team had apparently decided to tag along. Everyone from Research and Development was there (understandable, since this was where they worked), and so was John Blackthorn (also understandable, since he pretty much ran HQ). But that didn't explain everybody else.

There were people she knew from Information Technologies: Archive, her boss, and Jitter, her fellow newbie. There were a few she'd only met in passing, from quick introductions in the hallways or the lunch room: Back-up, Dragonryder, Amber. And there were many more she hadn't met at all. What were they all doing here? This was supposed to be a test, not a spectator sport.

Console helped Feedback into a chair, and attached a pair of electrodes to his temples. He connected the wires running from them into a little black boxy thing, roughly the size of a small box of Kleenex. Mnemonic couldn't begin to guess how it worked, but then again, everything she knew about technology could probably fit in a thimble; just learning how to download music onto her iPod had been a challenge. So she didn't guess. She just watched.

"Hey, Mnemonic," Console said. "You got a Memory Card on you? One you're sure Matt's forgotten about?"

"Yeah, just a sec." She had just the one; she'd found it in the vault on her last visit to HQ back in December. A few seconds of rummaging around in her pockets later, there it was: about the size of an SD card, and marked #20060918. She handed it to Console, who slid it into a tiny slot in the top of the little box.

After fiddling with a few more wires, Console looked from Matt to the assembled crowd and said, "Well…here goes nothing." He flipped a switch.

The room suddenly got very quiet, and all eyes turned to Feedback. He was gripping the arms of his chair, and his eyes were darting back and forth beneath their lids. What this meant was anyone's guess.

Seconds passed, and then minutes, with no change. Everyone stood stock-still with their gazes glued on Feedback. No one even breathed loudly. The silence in the lab was so absolute it made the usual near-unnoticeable whirring of the computers practically deafening. It was like everyone in the room had come to believe that even the slightest noise would throw off the whole test.

Well, it wasn't a totally irrational fear. After all, Matt had gotten his powers in a lab accident gone wrong. And, despite the fact that that accident had led to Matt doing so much good as Feedback, no one wanted to accidentally subject him to another painful ordeal.

All of a sudden, it clicked in Mnemonic's head. Everyone in this room, all different people from different walks of life…it was Feedback, and Feedback's cause, that had brought them all together. No one was here because they had nothing better to do. No, they were here because this man had affected all of them in some way, and they truly did care about what affected _him._

She wondered how she'd been dumb enough to miss that earlier.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Feedback opened his eyes.

***

"Well…here goes nothing."

Matt sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes as Console activated his machine. A second later, a tingling sensation started up where the electrodes had been attached to his temples. The tingling spread, until it felt like someone had set his whole head to vibrate mode. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it was uncomfortable enough to make him squirm a little in his seat.

And then, just like that, the tingling stopped.

Was it over? Or had something gone wrong? Console would know.

Matt opened his eyes, and had to stifle a gasp. He wasn't in the lab. Or maybe he was. It wasn't really clear just _what_ was happening: he was vaguely aware of the chair beneath him and the electrodes taped to his head, but here he was in a convenience store standing up, minus electrodes.

What was he doing in a convenience store?

Oh, right. He'd stayed late at HQ, and he wanted to pick up a couple of king-size candy bars for Sarah on his way home. Just a little "please don't kill me" present. That was it.

He selected a few, paid for them, and left. He'd just unlocked his car door when he heard something—a scream, coming from behind the convenience store. Without another thought, Matt raced toward it. Someone needed help.

There was an alley running behind the store, and Matt rushed in. it was pitch dark, and he had to pause to let his eyes adjust. As he did, he heard voices further in.

"…not gonna ask again. Gimme your wallet!"

"I—_ow!_ I _told _you, it's empty! I just bought—_aah!_"

"How 'bout that necklace, huh? The silver one?"

"What? It's not _real_ silver! I got it for twelve bucks at a Renaissance fair; it's worthless! Just let me g—_nngh!_"

Matt saw them then: four shadowy shapes near the end of the alley. He moved closer to get a better look. There were three hulking brutes with knives; one had a comparatively small girl pinned to the back wall of the store.

"Hey!" he called, and the thugs turned to face him. "What's going on here?"

"None of your damn business," one of the thugs growled. "Move along."

"Sorry, but that's not going to happen," Matt told them. He stepped closer.

The girl's eyes, wide with terror and brimming with tears, flicked toward him. "Please…please help me!"

"Shut up!" the thug holding her snarled. He turned back to Matt, brandishing his switchblade. "And _you_. What the hell are you s'posed to be, some kinda superhero? Well, listen, superhero: you got three seconds to get the hell out of here or you're next."

"You really think I'm just going to walk away and let you torment an innocent girl? I don't think so…game on!"

He'd played _Tekken 4_ that morning—for once, a game perfect for the situation. Nothing fancy, but enough fighting prowess to drive these three off.

The leader shoved the girl away. "You asked for it, superhero…don't say I didn't warn ya!"

A minute later, he and his partners in crime were on the ground, their blades folded and tucked safely in Matt's utility belt. "Game off."

Something at the edge of his vision glinted silver. He looked down; there on the cracked pavement was a necklace—probably the girl's. He picked it up, thankful that Amber had redesigned his gloves for just such a purpose. The chain was broken—one of the thugs must have snapped it right off that girl's neck. And…where had she gone, anyway?

"You're safe now," he called, in case she was still nearby. "Are you all right?"

"I…I think so." Slowly, the girl emerged from behind a dumpster. Her glasses had been knocked askew, and a long, bloody scrape decorated her left cheek.

"Here. I think this is yours." Matt brushed some dirt off the pendant—a twisting Celtic design with a crown, heart, and hands at the bottom—and handed it to her. "The chain's broken, but—"

"Who cares? It's just a stupid chain," she said slowly, her voice shaking. "Thank you so much. I could've…I mean, they almost…"

The next thing Matt knew, she was clinging to him and sobbing into his chest. Poor kid. And to think what might have happened to her if he'd actually gone home on time…

"Hey, you're all right now," he said, giving her a reassuring pat on the back. "Where do you live? I'll take you home."

She looked up at him, tears still leaking from her eyes. "Thanks, but it's just over there. You've done enough."

"No, I think it's best if I walked you. Wouldn't want you to run into any more trouble."

"Well, okay, if you in—" Her gaze darted up suddenly, past his shoulder. "Watch out!"

A sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull; a second later he was kissing asphalt, his vision rapidly fading to black…

Something changed. Now he was lying on his back, on something soft; his entire head was throbbing like mad, and he was staring up into a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes.

"Oh. You're awake. You okay?" asked the girl whose life he had saved.

"Where the…where am I?"

The girl gave a small smile. "Not in the Green Goblin's lair, if that's what you're worried about…."

***

Mnemonic breathed a sigh of relief when Feedback's eyes opened. He'd been still so long that, for a moment, she'd wondered if he would ever come back to them.

He blinked several times and looked around dazedly, like he'd just come out of a deep sleep.

"So? What happened, Matt?" This from Console.

Feedback didn't even look at him. His eyes locked onto Mnemonic's, and his small nod told her what had happened before he got a chance to say it.

"Congratulations, Console. Looks like my memory's well on its way to being whole again."


End file.
